Animal Instinct

Animal Instinct

13. The taming of the shrew

If Harry thought that facing a half giantess was challenging, then that was before he came across a woman (half-woman?) that didn’t even feature in the Fantastic Beasts and where to find them. Did Newt Scamander never get a glimpse of them? Or maybe he didn’t include any image of her kind because he didn’t want his book to be used by the schoolboys for some other nefarious purposes. 

And wasn’t that the truth as Harry had trouble keeping his eyes away from the sheer beauty of the hybrid woman standing in front of him, looking more like a lewd imagination of some perverted creator given form? No wonder the male centaurs hid her kind from the outside world.

“So my father was right. Wizards are indeed dumb.”

That wasn’t charitable of her. But then again, he hadn’t exactly been a beacon of contradiction to her notion with his stupid gaping. Shaking his head, Harry summoned the strength to tear his gaze away from her humongous swaying breasts, concealed by a cascade of long, flowing blond hair. The sound of his pounding heart echoed in his ears, joined by the shiver in his spine as an odd earthy aroma delighted his senses.

Harry stared at her face and gave an audible gulp. Her beauty was beyond just a pair of tits.  

Bloody hell, does every humanoid magical females are this gorgeous?

The lady centaur snorted before trotting away from the clearing, making her way behind the massive oak. Harry followed her, eyes stuck to her muscular back side swaying, with a bushy blond tail hiding the sacred place that would help him in eradicating his nemesis.

That thought was enough to jolt him out of his stupor.

He followed her like a jilted puppy, just happy to bask in the creature’s magnificence up front. The clearing beyond the oak was enchanting enough to give even his scatterbrained self a pause. A slinking stream cut across his vision, whose sparkling clear water glinted like liquid mercury. The crescent moon reflected perfectly in the flowing water with the absence of any large tree. A small doe skirted around the edges of the stream, who scuttled away after he stumbled over a root. He blushed as the only other soul in the clearing snorted again at his clumsiness. 

The sweet smell of nature made him lightheaded as he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. As Harry watched the pale blondish horse half of the centaur gleam when she picked her bow from the ground, the half hybrid woman fit perfectly with the otherworldly background scene, making him feel like an intruder on some conspicuous occasion. 

Only when she turned around armed and trotted before stopping a couple of feet away from him, did Harry realize he hadn’t spoken a single sentence of coherence after Firenze ran away.

Time to change that.

Not knowing how to greet her, Harry gave a deep bow from his waist, averting his eyes. “Good afternoon, Lady umm… Centaur?” he winced after finishing lamely.

He wasn’t really impressing the centaur, that he could tell.

“At least you know how to greet a hippogriff.”

Shaking his head to stop himself from flushing, Harry stopped averting his eyes, brows furrowing at her repeated insults.

Is this really Firenze’s mother? That was a hard pill to swallow with the contrast between the temperament of mother and son.

“I am still waiting to hear why Firenze thought I could help a wizard?”

“Actually, I didn’t ask him to bring him here.” Harry defended himself. “I was just taking a casual stroll when we came across and after some references to Venus getting brighter and all that jargon, he literally dragged me to your enclosure.”

Harry was paying particular attention and at the mention of Venus her bright blue eyes widened and her hooves thumped over the dried leaves scattered on the ground.

“What did you say, wizard?” 

Harry’s eyes crossed when the pointed tip of an arrow drew taut just centimeters from his temple, with the female centaur drawing her bow and stringing the weapon within a blink of his eyes.

Harry stood there like a statue, his life flashing before his eyes. The tension of the bowstring seemed ready to burst and the vein in his neck throbbed, robbing him of his vocation for the second time that night.

“I…ah…” he stammered, wondering how big of a mistake it was to venture into the forest that night.

“Firenze, along with his male ilk, might enjoy speaking in riddles, but I assure you we don’t care for that speak. So speak up or perish.”

How many of his preconceived notion were going to burst this day? First their sheer beauty, now this abhorrence to their characteristic enigma…

“I was just meandering inside the forest when you son—”

“Don’t lie, wizard! We centaurs stay well clear out of others if they don’t venture very close to our territory.” She glanced up at the sky a few times, precisely where the Venus was if he wasn’t mistaken. “You must have been searching for us.”

Harry took a deep breath, knowing his ruse was up. Ignoring the danger of getting impaled, Harry run his hands through his hair, which had grown quite long, almost touching his nape.

“Well, yes. You are right. I kind of searching for your kind.” The arrow lowered, but the muscular arms of the blond were still taut, as if waiting to stick one straight into his temple. “I need your help to defeat the dark lord. Voldemort.”

The female centaur flinched back at the name, and Harry was surprised. As much as he didn’t want to, sometime he couldn’t help but feel respect for the bastard that had ruined his life. He had honestly thought that he would have to explain some of the madman’s atrocities to impress how big of a nuisance the snake freak was to the society. But look at the sheltered half-witch, filching at his bare name.

“So you have heard of him?” Harry asked, not expecting an answer.

The centaur looked at him oddly, before coming dangerously close so that their noses almost touched. The only thing Harry had time to do was widen his eyes, when one of her long fingers parted his hairline to expose his famous scar.

Don’t tell me that even I am famous here.

“Harry Potter!”

Her crystal blue eyes were so bright and clear that Harry could spot a perfect reflection of his stupefied face reflected on them. Spanning his eyes down to thin nose and the smattering of freckles around the bridge to the wide, plump lips that seemed to be sculptured to be spread around a fat dick…

“You reek!” She shouted out suddenly, just when Harry was losing himself in his imagination. Though hearing a complain about his hygiene wasn’t something that he had even imagined a forest dweller would utter. It was very insulting.

“Excuse me!” he should be forgiven for spluttering. “I bath twice a day. If you think I reek, then maybe you should once sniff my other roommates.”

“No. Not that smell. You smell a lot better than my kind, who all think that water somehow robs them of their clairvoyance.” She muttered that wrinkling her nose. “I’m talking the about the smell of debauchery that is wafting from you like methane from a week old carcass.”

Harry’s eyes widened, hearing that.

The blond hybrid put her bow and arrow down, taking repeated sniffs around him, making him break in a nervous sweat. 

Why didn’t Hagrid mention that they have powers similar to dogs?

“Only us have this power. To be sure that our mates aren’t sowing their seed inside some other mares.” She correctly guessed what he must be thinking. Or was that another of her power? 

“But this smell around you…of magic…of ancient, perverted magic. Mingling with magic similar to my own.” Bloody hell! Was she going to deduce the entire ritual by his scent alone?

Harry realized the exact moment she came to her conclusion and, by the reddening of her face, she might have come to the right conclusion.

“YOU! How dare you come to our abode looking to spoil some young innocent mare?” Her entire pretty visage transformed, turning into furious and frightening. “I need to inform Bane about this.”

Harry remembered that hot-tempered centaur, and had no intention of meeting him a second time.

“Just wait a minute, Mrs. Firenze’s mother. Just hear me out.” Harry’s breathing was labored, and he cursed himself for leaving his firebolt in the previous clearing. 

“I don’t need to hear from a perverted wizardling who has already dabbled in some disgusting ritual.”

“I have no intention of spoiling anyone, young or old. Please believe me.” Harry continued on when she just huffed. “As I was saying before you went detective on me, my scar has a part of the dreaded dark lord’s soul and, to banish it forever, my acquaintances unearthed an old ritual.”

“A depraved ritual.”

“The only meaningful way to save my life.” Harry emphasized on that. “And you must have gotten the scent of those acquaintances of mine with whom I had completed the first two stages of the ritual.”

“So you admit that your intention was to search for a female of our species?” She seemed pleased, for some reason, at his honesty. 

“Not particularly your species.” Harry said, grimacing at what he had to express now. “As you have no doubt guessed, I need to mate with females outside of my species, particularly species which closely matches with my own and Firenze found me when I was contemplating about it.” Harry bullshitted with half-truth, hopeful that it would save his hide from the agitated blond.

“Whom have you mated with till now?” there was a curious glint in her eyes.

“A veela, the one who found the ritual and a half-giantess.”

“A veela!” She snorted loudly, making Harry stare. “Please, that species is just humans with some extra features. And a half-giantess? Those are as dumb as their parents.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. He had already gotten the hint, but this half-hybrid really was one of the most conceited being that he had come across. After knowing Malfoy, that was saying something.

“I was clearly worrying about nothing.” She shook her mane, “As if one of our kind would even think about mating with a human wizard.”

Yes, Harry agreed. He would rather not get infected with this empty pride.

Placing one hand over his head, she patted like he was some little kid. “It’s better you stick to those weak little creatures. It’s not like you could entice one of us, anyway.”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Harry nodded his head, a headache developing from her gloating. “I will take my leave, then. Please give Firenze my regards.”

“Yes, run along puny human. Even though you might be big… for a human, but your kind don’t have what it takes to mate with us.”

An angry vein throbbed in his forehead and he was this close to transforming into his other form and show this bitch how puny he really was.

She turned around, shoving her backside into his face, and Harry’s eyes twitched when her blond tail swished, hitting him in the forehead. “Just look at that. You will need a ladder to even mount one of our kind.” The laughter that escaped her was like acid to his ears and it burned when it became clear that even being the tallest student and the second tallest male of Hogwarts her rump was touching his breastbone, with her declaration of him needing a lift to enter her glaringly obvious.

“Well, yeah, it seems to be true in this case.” Harry gritted his teeth. Especially when she kept guffawing.

“Maybe an elf will be more at your level. I have also heard that they are very eager to please their masters.”

“I think I should go now.” Harry was itching to pull out his wand and point it at his own temple for thinking centaurs could be one of the seven.

“Oh look at you, getting sad now.” The crooning of the centaur almost made him lash out at her. “I am now feeling pity for you.”

She shook her head, leaning down slightly. “You know what with the dark lord being an enemy of our kind as well, it would be a disservice to every other magical being like us if you somehow fail to complete the ritual by one magical female. So I have decided that I will bear this burden for centaur-kind even though I’m sure it will be the most unsatisfactory mating of my life.”

“Really, you don’t have to bother.” Harry shook his head, not wanting pity sex from a half female-half equine.

“Knowing your human limitation is good and all, but do you really have the luxury to dismiss a beautiful creature like me just because of your physical inadequacy?”

Inadequacy? He will show her inadequacy!

“No. I don’t.” Harry glared at her smirking face. The temptation to stare at her heaving bosom easily curtailed now after the nonsense that she sprouted non-stop.

“Well, then meet me in this clearing at midnight, the next full moon. I doubt it will take over five minutes to accomplish our part in the ritual. After all, isn’t that the peak of wizarding virility?”

“I will be there.” Harry said, grunting aloud. His eyes scanned the beautiful scenery once more, lips curling in distaste at the ugly personality that was polluting the nature. 

He turned around, not greeting the conceited blond, intent on finding his broom and fly away as fast as possible from the clearing.

“Oh.. Wait. Make sure to bring a ladder as well.” Her laugh echoed ominously around the shadows. 

This bitch!

The laughter from behind overshadowed his footsteps over the soft ground of the clearing and Harry promised himself the only one laughing the next time he came here would be him.

The silence of trees culled the obnoxious echo pretty quickly, only the sound of critters ringing through the clearing and the blond centaur who tightened the string of her bow.

“Was that really necessary, mother?” A male voice asked disappointedly, as a handsome centaur trotted inside the clearing out of the darkness.

“I hope you won’t be spying on me the next time you friend comes to visit.” 

“You agreed to this. Agreed to follow the stars. They why this…”

The female centaur lifted one hand, stopping her son from continuing. 

“Yes, I agreed with your proposal. A proposal which will get you killed if Bane got its whiff. Just like your father.” 

“And what about the thousands that will get killed if we knowingly ignored the signs, misusing the gifts that we are blessed with?”

“That’s why I wanted to bear this responsibility rather than you convincing some other mare from Bane’s herd and getting yourself killed.”

“Then why did you insult my friend?” 

“Oh Firenze, maybe you will be more considerate of your mother the next time and properly explain the identity of your human friend and everything. You know I don’t have the gift of your sight.” A smirk tugged the beautiful centaur’s lips as she stared at the clear blue sky and millions of dots blinking furiously. “Even though I am following the stars, why can’t I have my fun along the way? After all, how many times will I get the chance to have a wizard eat out of my palm?”

“Wait, you did because of…”

“Yes dear, because I’m bored.”

Firenze, the centaur, suddenly had the foresight that perhaps he should have left his friend well alone to fulfill his destiny.

-oOo-

Harry kept his head down, taking furtive glances while the professor was busy helping some other student. A burning behind his neck caused him to swivel, and he blanched. The pair sitting behind him were Lavender and Parvati, and both gaped at him with such intensity and hunger, as if there were some kind of prime steak in place of him. Well, in Lavender’s case at least.

The end of the class bell rang, and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

If he didn’t have so many other problems to deal with at the moment, he would have taken the time to figure out why those two were behaving even more strangely towards him.

Purposefully delaying himself, Harry watched his classmates vacate the Transfiguration classroom one by one. Professor McGonagall was busy arranging their homework in a pile, and Harry decided it was as good as a time to bite the bullet and ask her about a certain issue.

“Professor?”

His head of the house flinched at his voice. Her eyes going to the empty classroom before stalling at him standing in front of her desk. Her lips thinned, eyes narrowing.

“Mr. Potter.” She stated evenly. But Harry could sense she still was furious at his stunt that day. Propositioning his head of the house hadn’t been one of his brightest ideas.

His gaze went to the thin piece of fir resting on the table and he shuffled sideways, having no intention of coming in the firing line of the said wand. One time was enough.

“My next class starts in ten minutes. Please don’t waste my time if you have nothing to say.”

Harry shook his head, shoving his hands in his robes pocket. “I was wondering, professor…” Harry gathered his Merlin-damned courage. “Can untransfiguration work if someone cast the spell on themselves?”

“I hope you aren’t insinuating about performing self-transfiguration without supervision.” Professor McGonagall leaned ahead in her chair. “Because if that is your intention…”

“Of course not!” Harry tried to sound scandalized, but by her skeptical eyes, he had failed miserably. “It was just an academic curiosity.”

“It better be. Especially, I wasn’t joking about my warning in your first ever Transfiguration class.”

Harry swallowed. Expulsion from her class: that was exactly what she had promised if anyone was caught fooling around with her branch of magic.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to drag her attention toward himself.

“Yes, untransfiguration is such a valuable skill for the very reason that it reverses any and every spell cast to induce a change in something or someone. One’s own-self included.”

Harry’s lips twitched at the news. He could already perform the required spell. So his plan could carry on with no hiccup.

“But…” Here his head of the house stood up, and somehow stared down at him even though he was more than a foot taller than the witch. “A miscast self-transfiguration could render someone incapable of focusing properly and thus it is always advised to practice it under supervision. I hope that is clear to you, Mr. Potter?”

Harry nodded, swinging his bag over his shoulder and hightailed out of the classroom after muttering a small thanks. He held himself from looking over his shoulder as the wand resting on the desk had found its way into professor McGonagall’s hand. No doubt she would probably be more than happy to use it on him.

Not today.

-oOo-

Sweat dripped from his brows, eyes shut tight, as Harry focused inward. He had practiced enough in the previous years and the summer that transforming into his animagus form took barely any effort from him. The raw, primal part of his mind that he had understood as his other self was all too happy to take the center stage. But never had he been forced to curtail his instincts, the desire furiously fighting against his will.

His other, more ferocious side dug tooth and nail, tugging the rope of his consciousness and unwilling to let the opportunity pass by, but Harry’s fists balled, in no mood to reigning his consciousness to his animalistic side. 

The tug of war continued for the next couple of minutes—between two indomitable wills before the master of the body finally triumphed. A satisfied hum rose from the back of his throat, eyes still closed and face screwed.

The process of transforming had always been seamless. With his limbs turning simultaneously, or that was it had always felt like. 

But now, a small tingle spread along his lower extremities, rising and rising to almost his waist. Harry held that thought and, with a mental shout, forced himself to transform just partially.

Blearily opening his eyes, his first thought was that the classroom floor had somehow collapsed. Turning to the upturned and dust-sprinkled desk, he took one step in its direction and a thump echoed around the empty, abandoned room. Of hooves striking the uneven stone.

A wane smile stretched across his face and he would have jumped for joy if his legs hadn’t been transformed into his other-self’s hind-legs. He stumbled to the front and stared out of the only window, to the forbidden forest in the distance looming like a distorted piece of land whose tall and thick foliage whispered stories of the danger that lurked into its utterly remarkable bosom.

It would soon have a different story to regale to its inhabitants.

Even hunched because of the curve of this hind leg, Harry marveled at the height he was currently observing the world from. If his later growth spurt was towering and then this caricature had most certainly added another couple of feet to his height. Now he must be high enough that the backside of the gorgeous female centaur wouldn’t be unsurmountable anymore. 

Just imagining her unnaturally pretty face twisted in a rictus of surprise, Harry promised himself that he would take revenge for the fun that she had made of him. A tenfold revenge. The angry whisper in his subconscious had the tint of neigh in them.

He was basking in his success when a horrible pain flashed through his extremities, striking his mind with a terrible vengeance. The feeling wasn’t gradual. One second he was hale and hearty and the next second he had taken support of the desk, falling over and grimacing as lance after lance of excruciating agony rendered his mind completely scrambled. 

Harry searched for the wand that had fallen from his grasp, wincing as the added movements seemed like someone had taken a red-hot pike and shoved it inside his knees and shins.

There. The eleven inches of holly rolled into his hand, and Harry waved it over his body, murmuring the untransfiguration spell desperately.

Now that the unbearable pain seemed to increase with every second, Harry realized that in his haste to transform he had overlooked properly forming the millions of nerve endings of his muscular other half’s legs. His mental confrontation robbing him of the most important of the steps.

His heart thudded to a stop when the agony persisted. 

NO!

He waved his wand again, almost praying that the spell would work. 

Nothing.

His extremities remained the horrible hybrid, now feeling like he was standing over a bed of long wiggling swords that was constantly messing his insides.

‘Fuck me!’ He internally screamed, now doubly screwed because of his choice of a classroom was way out of the normal hustle of the school students.

Not like anybody would be awake at this time.

With the pain now crossing the threshold of human bearability, a panic dredged inside him, quickly rousing into a roaring inferno of alarm. His eyes searched madly, to the broken bench at the corner and then to the window, just large enough that he could climb onto and …

The door of the classroom blasted open and a furious voice echoed from the entrance.

“Whit the hell is gang on here?”

Déjà vu…

But Harry was sure he was enjoying a lot more the last time he had to face the wrath of of his head of the house. 

His eyes widened, heartbeat stopping when the furious visage of his transfiguration professor took in his state. Even the agony in his lower limbs fled away and Harry realized in a panic that maybe…just maybe experimenting with her subject might be more sacrilegious than sleeping with the resident healer of the Hogwarts in professor McGonagall’s eyes.

He turned back to the window. Could he survive jumping from five stories? The grinding of teeth of the furious witch made him swallow. Maybe breaking all of his bones would be less painful than whatever punishment that would befall his fate should he remain here?

“Potter! I knew you were up to no good.” His head of the house rushed inside the classroom and turned him forcefully so that he would have to face her head on. “What kind of abomination were you hoping to turn into?”

“I…Uh…”

He flinched when her wand flashed into her hand and she waved it along his legs. The rapid shrinking of his height made him stumble and his hand fished in front, taking hold of the fuming professor’s shoulder for support.

“Why in all my years!” She angrily muttered, and Harry moaned, feeling the pain slowly ebbing away as the sinew and nerves of his legs and thighs realigned and restructured. “Academic curiosity! My foot! As if it is the first time I am dealing with a Potter! If I haven’t cast the spell on your back to alert me in case…” she trailed off. 

Harry, though, had closed his eyes, breathing slowly as sensations returned to their previous non-mutilated state. An odd sensation came from his cock and he opened his eyes to see his rock-hard penis, throbbing and huge thwacking against the creased robes of the stumped witch who was looking at this angry red organ with her mouth wide open.

Harry sprang back, covering his dick with his palms and cursing himself for forgetting that he had shed his trousers before trying the partial transformation.

His trouser was way back inside the classroom, exactly where he had left it and he just knew that his professor would have a full view of his swinging, oversized cock if went to pick that garment.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, her jaws tightening before her previous wrath seemed to multiply. 

“You stupid boy! Doing something so dangerous just because of vanity!”

What? Harry grimaced. What could she be speaking about?

“Stop trying to hide that monstrosity!” Harry saw her pointing her wand at his dick, which he was futilely trying to cover. “My spell should have turned it back to its original state. Maybe I need to put more power…”

It took barely a second for Harry to realize what she was insinuating. He crouched, bending down and trying to protect his precious endowment from any impending spell.

“Stop this foolishness. It might seem like everything at your age…a large co…manhood.” Professor McGonagall stalled, waving her wand threateningly. “But a transfigured organ is not the way to go.”

“It’s not transfigured, dammit!” Harry almost tore his hair out as the red of her intent bloomed on the point of her wand. “I was always like this.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

Harry ignored her mocking reply. How could she forget seeing him naked in just a few days?

“C’mon professor, you might have not realized it when it was inside Poppy, but it was always like this. I’m sure you saw that after you separated us.”

A yelp left his lips as a stinging charm smacked against his hand. Bloody hell, he hadn’t even seen her wand move.

“That was for insinuating that I stared at my indecent student.” A red blotch appeared on her waxy skin that Harry now knew to be some kind of glamor. “That day with Poppy and now this…You are toeing a very thin line.”

“I’m sorry, all right. But I swear I was always like this. You can even ask Madam Pomfrey.”

Professor McGonagall’s wand hand fell away, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The angry red welt on his wrist was throbbing and Harry slowly rubbed the place, eyes watering. He turned to glare at the professor for putting so much power into her spell when his eyes widened, too late to do anything but flinch as a streak of light collided with his upper torso, immobilizing his upper halves’ movement.

Another spell struck him below the knees and it didn’t take long for him to understand that she must have cast localized petrification spells. The only part of his body that could move was his hip, thighs and his swinging, monstrously hung cock, bobbing and touching his knees.

Oh no!

Harry tried moving the mobile parts and the only thing it did was swing his dick round and round just like a kid playing helicopter with his wiener. He immediately stilled, only the petrification stopping him from blushing bright red.

Professor McGonagall neared him skittishly, eying his swinging cock like it was going to lunge ahead and strike her. 

“Did you really think that I haven’t faced any similar situation in the decades of my time spent here? That some unfortunate soul hadn’t tried to give themselves some extra ‘oomph’ so to speak and thought self transfiguration was the best way to achieve that?”

The only way to show his alarm was to widen his eyes and Harry did just that, trying to break free of the petrification with all his might.

An odd expression crossed her face as she examined his drooping length, lips pursed, and an odd look filtering in her eyes for a second. 

“Though I have to give you some credit.” She said after a long time. “No one had been successful in transforming their…genitals such wonderfully. It even has the perfect looks of an ideal male genitalia, not like the grotesque hybrid that some of your predecessor had inflicted upon themselves. Why It could even pass for a real appendage, just belonging to a giant rather than human.”

“Unfortunately for you, a transfigured body part doesn’t work like a normal one, and several complications could even cause necrosis if the transfiguration was too sloppy.” She lifted her wand with a determined face. “Now let’s see if extra power would be enough to reverse this transformation.”

Harry held his breath and saw her cast spell after spell at his cock, heart thundering in fear. A crease formed on her forehead as there was no change in his appendage and her wand movements got stiffer with time, the spells increasing in their complexity.

With each failure, she looked determined to reverse the non-transfigured body part, even getting on her knees, face close enough that her warm breath tickled against the purplish dome of his.

“There is some kind of residual magic flowing though you vein. But it isn’t like any kind of transfiguration spell that I have come across.” With hesitating hands, she slowly, carefully took hold of his cock, showing so much precaution as if it was an elusive electric eel rather than his cock. She hissed, jerking back after touching his skin, and Harry wondered if he had somehow channeled his anger through his skin, though that notion was quickly discarded at her. “It’s sweltering!”

Her fingers clasped around the girth, the wrinkled fingers barely engulfing half of his thickness, and then she lifted the hefty organ. “Even the scrotum is transfigured!”

With a scandalized gasp, she let go of his cock, glaring at him again. At her wand’s flick, his head could move again and Harry immediately shook his head, begging her to understand his plight.

“Professor, please, I’m not lying.” Harry’s pleading fell on deaf ears, but he knew he had to make her understand before she did some permanent damage in her determination to fix his family jewels. “Just take me to madame Pomfrey. Even if your are right and there is something wrong with me, she could fix me in a jiffy.”

His head of the house thought about his proposal for a minute before shaking her head. “I can’t trust Poppy where you are concerned. Not after that night.” The gears churned in her head. “Only person I would trust to know more than me about transfiguration is headmaster.”

Harry would rather cut off his dick than go to the two-faced megalomaniac.

“But he is away in ICW business.”

Thank Merlin for the small mercies.

“Maybe the Orwell’s principle of organic revivification would work here?” Professor McGonagall seemed to think of him more as a guinea pig and less as her student, contemplating performing a spell that was shrouded in controversy. “Yes, forcing the cells to rewire them as they were before their division state would certainly work here. I’m sure of it.”

“Professor, please, there’s no need for it.” Harry’s voice stuck, getting high pitched, and he started hyperventilating.

“It is better than getting permanent damage. It’s for your own good, Mr. Potter.” She said to him, voice laced with pity. “Maybe you shouldn’t have experimented with such delicate magic?”

Harry cast his mind back, thinking of anything as she prepared to cast the esoteric spell that he had only read once while preparing for his animagus transformation.

“What did you just say a bit earlier? About transfigured organs not working like normal?” 

Please…please let that be the case. It was Harry’s last hope. 

“Any self-transfigured organ would in reality be non-functional, especially if they are internal organs. That’s why healers don’t just transfigure any injured organ, even though in theory it would be less hassle.”

“That’s it!” Harry crowed out. “If I can prove that my di…penis works, then you will have to agree that it isn’t transfigured!”

“And how are you going to accomplish that?” Professor’s eyebrows arched up, lips taking on their characteristic thin appearance. “If you think I will let you leave from—”

“If I can release semen from my penis… then it will prove that it is working like normal. Don’t you agree?”

She narrowed her eyes, her nostril flaring. “All right. But mind you, this is your last rope. If it doesn’t work like you are claiming, then you will stay still and let me cast the spell.” His head of the house said in a no-nonsense tone.

Harry bobbed his head, finally releasing a sigh of relief.

He was about to request her to cut off the petrifaction of his hands so that he can jerk off when the professor’s shaking hands encircled his cock and she gave a stuttering tug. What the…

Professor McGonagall dropped her wand and put that hand beside its twin, engulfing the middle of his cock with a firm grip.

“Professor!” Harry choked, not expecting her to give him a hand job.

“Stay still, Mr Potter. It will be over quickly.” She said that like it was a project, face stoic, eyes stuck to his cock-head. In particular, at his large pisshole.

Harry closed his eyes, hardly believing that it was really happening. After Poppy let out the secret, he had harbored the desire to see what was hidden beneath his stoic head of the house and if he could somehow convince her to join her friend in the pleasurable activity with him. But never like this.

Her skin was rough and Harry hoped it was because of whatever spell she had cast over herself. Not only that, she dragged his foreskin down his rod with a mechanical precision. There was no personality, no rhythm and no sensuality in her action, as if she was repeating what she had heard, not from her personal experience. 

Harry bit his lips to not curse out loud as she put extra pressure on his rod, dragging her hand to the bottom of his cock with such force that his helmet flared like a red flower. 

For once he glanced at his head of the house, expecting to see something else than her stoic face, but the old, wrinkly faced and the square rimmed glassed killed the minute pleasure that was spreading along his length.

He quickly closed his eyes, trying to imagine his other partners and their gorgeous bodies. The quicker he could spurt a load, the quicker he could escape from this embarrassing incident and the clearly inexperienced hands that were giving him discomfort rather than pleasure.

A rough tug forced a hiss to release from his lips and Harry tempered the temptation to glare at the professor. But her old disguise was such a mood killer that it was better to endure a bit of pain than losing the urge that was coming back, slowly but steadily.

Her hands suddenly left him high and dry around the ten minutes mark, and his eyes sprang open, a surprised gasp leaving him.

“What…professor why?”

“I hope that was enough of your dallying, Mr. Potter.” She went to pick her wand lying beside her. “Clearly, your transfigured organ will not ejaculate like a normal male genitalia.”

“Wait, professor. There is still time for that to happen.” Harry panicked, for the first time in life cursing his inhuman stamina. “I just take longer to ejaculate.”

“You will have to come up with new lies just to cover your previous ones.” Professor McGonagall shook her head. “Ten minutes are more than generous for a wizard to release his semen.”

The repeated denial of his head of the house had already rankled his feather. Add the sudden culling of pleasure that was only beginning to get good. It was only a matter of time before his nervousness would transform into daring.

“Maybe I would have already orgasmed if you gave me something good to look.”

“Whit do you mean?” There was panic in her voice as she looked around the classroom.

“Madam Pomfrey slipped about your glamor that night. About how you keep your true looks hidden from everybody. Maybe if you drop the spell and then continue with…”

Professor McGonagall jolted back as if slapped by him. Her lips were in danger of disappearing entirely, flinty eyes turning into slits. Just like her animagus form.

“I really need to have a talk with Poppy about keeping secrets.” She murmured, her eyes glancing at his raw, waving cock. “And toeing certain boundaries.”

“Please professor. Before trying that spell, can you at least keep my request?” Harry would have crossed his fingers if he could. “I’m sure it will be over in minutes if you’re really as beautiful as Poppy promised.”

For the first time in his life, Harry saw his transfiguration professor genuinely blushing, her hue turning atomic red, spreading along her cheeks, then her neck. If the faded dark robes hadn’t been high-collared, then it might have spread even lower.

She fidgeted down on her knees, and Harry couldn’t believe how this accident had paved his way for fulfilling one of his darkest, depraved desires. Maybe now he could verify if his head of the house was really hotter than the astronomy professor.

Her hand had reached down and picked the thin piece of fir, before with a loud exhale she waved the stick over herself repeatedly, murmuring in Gaelic.

Harry forgot to breathe, anticipation racing through his veins. The seconds of wait seemed like whole hours and his mouth opened when with a flash the disguise of his professor wavered away. 

Damn. Bloody fucking DAMN!

His eyes drank in the completely transformed witch with wavy, dark auburn hair appearing almost brown and cascading down her back. A thin long nose sat perfectly in the middle of a high-cheek-boned aristocratic face, giving her a regal, goddess like beauty. The defined jawline, the gray and wide pupils and finally the thin arched eyebrows completed the assembly with swanlike neck bobbing in nervousness. The more he observed the beauty hidden of his head of the house, the more his respect for his grandfather crashed and burned.

Seriously, how could a guy stop himself from tapping this beauty?

And Harry hadn’t even properly took in anything below her neck.

But he did that next and…

His balls churned in the sack, the sensations of long clumsy fondling came back with a vengeance, and his piss-hole dilated, an electric current of lust making him shiver.

The robes which were most certainly tailored for her old form seemed fit to burst, with the buttons straining in holding two tits which must have been even larger than Ron’s mother.

“UNNGH!”

A stream of pearly white and thick cum exploded out of his urethra, honing straight to the surprised professor’s spectacled face.

“MR. POTTER!”